Posts Tagged ‘Dante Gabriel Rossetti’


The wind flapped loose, the wind was still,
Shaken out dead from tree and hill:
I had walked on at the wind’s will, –
I saw now, for the wind was still.

Between my knees my forehead was, –
My lips, drawn in, said not Alas!
My hair was over in the grass,
My naked ears heard the day pass.

My eyes, wide open, had the run
Of some ten weeds to fix upon;
Among those few, out of the sun,
The woodspurge flowered, three cups in one.

From perfect grief there need not be
Wisdom or even memory:
One thing then learnt remains to me, –
The woodspurge has a cup of three.







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Dante Gabriel Rossetti – self-portrait (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lost Days

The lost days of my life until today,
What were they, could I see them on the street
Lie as they fell?  Would they be ears of wheat
Sown once for food but trodden into clay?
Or golden coins squandered and still to pay?
Or drops of blood dabbling the guilty feet?
Or such spilt water as in dreams must cheat
The undying throats of Hell, athirst alway? 

I do not see them here; but after death
God knows I know the faces I shall see,
Each one a murdered self, with low last breath,
“I am thyself, – what hast thou done to me?”
“And I – and I – thyself,” (lo! each one saith,)
“And thou thyself to all eternity!”

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